


From a New Perspective

by Dr_Laughingstock



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, deeply in love, flustered crowely, in love aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:10:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19458004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Laughingstock/pseuds/Dr_Laughingstock
Summary: After 3 years of officially dating, Aziraphale could say with one hundred percent certainty that the fearsome Serpent of Eden, the chosen deliverer of the anti-Christ, the creator of the cursed M-25; was a big romantic softie.





	From a New Perspective

After 3 years of officially dating, Aziraphale could say with one hundred percent certainty that the fearsome Serpent of Eden, the chosen deliverer of the anti-Christ, the creator of the cursed M-25; was a big romantic softie.

_ Yes _ , please laugh all you want; he knows how ridiculous it sounds but he would lay all his books down on the line with entire confidence in the statement. 

_ Especially _ since said perceivably wicked demon had his head buried deep into the Angels neck as he contorted his arms to curl around him in ways that shouldn’t be possible; and making the cutest contented puffs of air. (1) However, in these three years he realized that shockingly Aziraphale did not know as much about Crowley as he thought he did. 

  1. Apparently that was a snake behavior, which just added to how much Aziraphale secretly cooed over his dear. 



While it was true that Aziraphale knew him  _ best _ , he’d never thought that perhaps maybe he only knew one or two sides of Crowley and completely ignored the others due to his constant fear of Heaven or Hell destroying them. 

Now that both of them have buggered off, he finally allowed himself to see Crowley as he really is. A big-lumbering-sweet-romantic-softie. 

_ Easily Flustered; _

Throughout the first or so month in their relationship, he had never seen the suave demon become so clumsy and flustered. 

If Aziraphale were to attempt to hold his hand, his neck up to his ears would turn a beat red and he would start humming a random Queen tune. 

If Aziraphale ever called him ‘his dear’ or ‘darling’ Crowley would let out the most unusually strangled noise that Aziraphale later understood to be his tongue tying itself up.

If Aziraphale gave him a soft kiss on- anywhere, Crowley would then promptly run into a wall or pole in shock as his legs went into auto drive. 

On one particular occasion, Aziraphale had wrapped his arms around his shoulders and given him a deep kiss that was reciprocated enthusiastically. It was when the kiss had stopped that Aziraphale his brows were knitted in a dopey expression, and his mouth formed in a very goofy grin; he almost wanted to laugh. (2) 

(2) He didn’t of course as that would wound Crowley’s pride. Even more so than when he accidentally rolled down the steps and smacked his face into the Bentley when Aziraphale had given him a kiss goodnight. 

However, one of his most treasured moments in the start of the relationship was the one time that Crowley had actually managed to get a flirtatious statement out. 

“How’s the universes’ most fantastically beautiful entity doing today?” He grinned and leaned forward on Aziraphale’s counter. With a slight smug smile, the Angel turned a page and without looking and returned with;

“I don’t know, Crowley, how are you today?” 

He looked up when he heard a thump, which had been Crowley fainted slightly from how badly his face had turned red. Something a normal human wouldn’t have done but for Crowley who has been waiting 6000 years to get any sort of romantic attention from Aziraphale, it had done him in quite well. 

_ Considerate;  _

To be fair, he had always known Crowley to show consideration but it was most of the time the consideration came through major acts of chivalry such as the church in 1941. The consideration was always there but Aziraphale had always had some doubts in the back of his head thanks to Heaven’s constant barrage of hatred for the fallen. He was luckily,more so Heaven, proven wrong. 

Once Crowley gained his footing back, although with the way he walked it could be argued he never had it in the first place, about two and a half months into their relationship he had switched from being a lovestruck teenager to complete gentleman. He’d call before he came over, never forgot to bring wine and chocolates, always reserved a table at the Ritz or wherever they decided to eat that night, and even opened the doors for Aziraphale. 

Frankly it was a little off putting, but not because Aziraphale didn’t enjoy all the pampering rather he felt like Crowley was holding back a little. So, with concern he confronted the demon about it.

Low and behold he actually looked a little shy while he was giving an explanation,  _ Crowley- shy!  _

“Well… I uh… wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to fast for you, Angel.” 

The words stung a little, and it created a guilty pool in his heart. How could he ever make up for what he had said all those years ago? Such cruel and untrue words that were spoken from the mouth of a frightened soldier of God? 

He was determined to fix it.

So, putting both his hands softly on Crowley’s face and looking deep in his- well it was hard to tell with the shades blasted things- eyes; he said with complete genuity.

“My dear, that was a load of bollocks I told you that day. You’ve never gone to fast for me, I was the one who just needed to catch up. But I’m here now, alright?” He could feel the intense heat of Crowley’s cheeks through his finger tips, “So you do not need to hold back anymore.” 

Just as if Crowley had gone back to two months ago, he went slack in the Angel’s grasp and began mumbling incoherently while his face lit a flame. Except this time he at least had somewhere in his brain telling him to grab hold of Aziraphale and kiss him. 

After that, things became a lot more normal. Or whatever could constitute as ‘normal’ in their supernatural lives. 

_ Protective; _

Now, as many times as he’s been rescued by the Wiley serpent one would think that he would get the hint that Crowley was quite protective over him. He instead viewed these rescues as part of The Arrangement, and not because Crowley was constantly making sure Aziraphale didn’t become  _ inconveniently discorparated _ because he wanted to get crepés in the middle of a bloody revolution. Literally and metaphorically. 

Although, as many of these surprising traits of the demon did, it came to Aziraphale as a shock one day when Crowley began yelling his ear off.

Aziraphale had been reorganizing his book shelves, the human way, one day and a rather jutted out classic had been bothering him. He probably should have grabbed a sturdier ladder of some sort, or even miracled it back into place, but instead he went on his tiptoes upon the rickety antique stool to push it back into place. 

_ Almost!  _ But once his finger tip brushed the spine, he heard a crack from underneath him. The stool’s back leg had broken off from the uneven weight disbursed on its top, causing Aziraphale to go flying back and instinctively grabbing the shelves to steady himself. Unfortunately someone had it out for him that day as the shelves came forward with a gigantic book shelf behind it ready to smoosh his corporal form. 

He was expecting to wake up in Heaven to many judging eyes, especially Gaberials who would probably try to figure out if he was still ‘immune’ to hellfire. Instead, he was greeted with a strong pair of arms wrapped under him and his book shelf in its proper place. The stool was also fixed, but instead of its nice old wooden texture it was now a solid metal and was much wider at the seat. 

“Are you okay?” Crowley’s expression was a bit unreadable, thanks again to those stupid blasted glasses, but his tone was unusually soft. 

“Yes, much better now thank you my dear.” Aziraphale laughed slightly, “well that would have been quite the ruckus up in Heaven.  _ Discorporated via bookshelf,  _ I’d be ridiculed for weeks.” 

Aziraphale was not greeted with a similar sense of glee, and instead Crowley dropped him off the ground far too gently for how tense his body had become. 

“My dea-,” He was about to ask before Crowley turned to give him an angry look.

“This is the fifth fucking time this year you could have died! Or Discoporated, or  _ whatever! It doesn’t matter because if Heaven gets their hands on you, and you don’t have a body, then it’s over _ .” He screamed, “I mean really! Every damn time I turn to look for you you’ve gotten yourself in another mess, and then you just laugh it off as if you hadn’t been three seconds away from facing those holier- than- thou pricks!” 

Aziraphale bristled, “I’ll have you know I am very careful with my vessels! How in the Heaven’s do you think I’ve kept it the same one for so long?”

“Oh really, sssssssso tell me that you almost didn't get run over the other day.” He lifted a singular brow high in confidence.

“An elder lady had accidentally dropped her purse! What was I suppose to do let traffic run it over?” He defended, but he was starting to see the point.

“Yessssssss! That’s exactly what you were suppose to do! Now tell me how you almost didn't get sssssshot in the middle of an alley way!” He snarled, tapping his snake skinned shoes. 

“It’s not my fault that poor young man was engaging in illegal affairs with a gang member! It was just supposed to be a short cut.” 

“Oh! Ohhhh! A ssssshort cut excussseeee me! I ssssshould have known!” His hissing was getting worse, and Aziraphales resolve was weakening. “Honesssstly I really can't believe someone as brilliant as you could be so sssssssssssstupid! Do you not care about what happensssss to you? What would happen if I lossst you? I can’t do that again, Angel!” 

Crowley had said it with such a conviction that Aziraphale had paused in his pride. He took in account how Crowley was starting to look desperate, the tale tell crinkle above his upper lip indicating his stress and fear, and suddenly the source of anger made sense. 

“Is… is this about the bookshop?” 

Crowley let his head hang, clearly exhausted at the mention of it.

“What do you think?” It was again, so soft that Aziraphale wondered if it was even spoken at all.

“Crowley, I didn’t… I  _ wasn’t… _ ” he tried to find the right words.

“Angel, I know that  _ now. _ But back then- for somebody’s sake if you’d have seen it… horrible… I, I couldn’t sense you. There was nothing to go off of,” Crowley reached over gripped his hand a little harder than necessary but Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to care, “I’m not doing that again, Aziraphale. Not now, not ever, so unless you want to put up with my awful griping for the next century- can you please just be a little more careful?” 

Aziraphale shuffled closer to him, holding his both his hands now. He knew how much Crowley hated begging, or anything to do with requests that aren’t of a business nature, and Aziraphale could sense that this was going to be a one time request. 

“Of course I will, I hadn’t realized you were such a worry wart, darling.” He lightly teased to adjust the mood. It seemed to work as Crowley let out a groan that was a little too fond. 

“I am no such thing, Angel, I’m the one who creates the worrying.” 

“Sure you are.” Aziraphale smirked. However true to his word, he has consistently stopped trying to run out into the street to pick up old ladies things or go through dark alley ways to get to his favorite bakeries faster. And if suddenly those old ladies had their things back into their hands or Aziraphale found random sweets from his favorite shops on his counter than whose to care anyways? 

_ Cuddly;  _

Too say that Aziraphale was touched starved way a bit understated. He loved touch, but refused it often because he never wanted to get attached. It was a strict rule he had set up for himself, as he knew the minute he let a hug linger for too long or engaged in any form of clinging to another being he knew he would become attached. Which was hard for an immortal. 

Crowley, who again had been waiting for  _ 6000 YEARS, _ had decided that he was the exception to this rule and after getting over the shock of finally being in an official relationship with his Angel he abused it quite often. Aziraphale couldn’t get enough of it.

All touch was something he craved, and Crowley wanted it just as much. He loved slinging his arm over Aziraphale’s shoulders, he loved hugging the Angel from behind as he was cleaning the shelves, he loved brushing finger tips gingerly only to come back together intertwined, and during the winter times he absolutely adored reverting to his snake form and hugging Aziraphale closely like a scaley scarf. At some points it almost looked like the two were attached at the hip as there hadn’t been a day that went by where Crowley didn’t encircle him with his limbs, which Aziraphal never knew he could be so thankful for.

Just as now, when he was being encircled by the tired demon. It had been a long day as they had went to visit Adam and his little friends. Crowley had performed a couple of demonic miracles to entertain the young group while also showing off to Aziraphale how to do “real” magic, the cheeky bastard. After that they went to eat dinner with Anathema and Newt, which was much more exhausted as Anathema had been talking a mile a minute about their wedding plans; and Newt wasn’t exactly helpful as he just dreamily started at Anathema wondering how he got so lucky. A question many people often asked about the odd couple. 

Regardless, Aziraphale though it was a bit adorable how the humans were able to find love so quickly; with Crowley trying hard not to show his jealousy. Even so, dinner was lovely and when they got home (practically home, as the bookshop and flat were never inhabited by a singular entity anymore) Crowley had brought out a bottle of wine that he claimed was definitely not from Shadwell’s stash. He sort of had it out for the old man after pushing Aziraphale into the circle that day, no matter how many times he explained it was an accident, so all things considering he aloud this in favor of Shadwell suddenly finding himself in the middle of the Sahara Desert. 

So alcohol induced and cold from the winter outside, Crowley and Aziraphale cuddled upon the sofa inside the back room of the bookshop. 

Aziraphale looked down at his lover again, while slowly petting his arm. His face which was indented by years of observing humanity at its worst or withered by the fear of the inevitable war against earth, was so peaceful and vulnerable in the crook of Aziraphale’s body. The amount of trust that he felt between them made his heart (3) ache. 

(3) He knew it was his heart because he grew one specifically so he could feel all these wonderful emotions fully.

“Like something you see, Angel?” Came a muffled voice from on his chest. Crowley turned his head with the softest smile, his usually slitted eyes were now dilated to be large and round- another snake attribute Aziraphale absolutely adored. 

“I don’t think like is the word I’d use,” Aziraphale hummed. Crowley crinkled his eyebrows and for a few seconds his irises shrunk back to little slits while he tensed up like a coiled viper. Aziraphale delayed his statement a little longer just for dramatics, “because I love what I see. I love you, my dearest Crowley.” 

Crowley then let his body relax as he gave a breath of relief, “Angel, don’t pause like that, fuck sakes.” Aziraphale giggled childishly, which caused Crowley to flip him on his back on the couch with a little smug smile of his own.

“Think that’s funny do you?” 

“A little,” Aziraphale continued to laugh lightly. 

“Well you’re lucky I love you too, because right now you’re under the most fearsome demon that’s ever crossed this bloody planet.” Crowley stated proudly, looking at his nails nonchalantly. 

“Oh of course,  _ very  _ fearsome..." he nodded sagely, "to your plants at least. Other than that, you're just a romantic softie.” 

"Ro-romantic _sofite?"_ He scoffed in indignation, "I'll have you know that I am no such thing. Softie is a five letter word and demons are no such things!" 

"No I suppose demons aren't usually. Good thing we're on our own side." 

Crowley, just as expected, melted just slightly above the Angel. Even after so long together those string of words made practically turned him into putty. Aziraphale spared him in pointing it out, even if it did prove his point. 

"Good thing we are." 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoy how excessively cheesy this was! It was entirely self indulgent, I love seeing Crowley be an absolute mess in a the start of being with Aziraphale. I hope to make more in the future! But as for first fan fictions posted, I'm pretty proud with this. Also, Disclaimer, I don't own Good Omens or any of it's characters; obviously.


End file.
